Seriously, I lose motivation to do things when I get home.
On Monday we hung out at camp for most of the day, then went to the house of staff who lived in a nearby city to ease our transitioning back into the rest of the world. Go out to dinner, see a music performance in a bar, all sleep on the floor.
Tuesday, I was up and out the door, saying goodbye to the dozen or so people that were there, by 9a. A long drive home, while being very tired, was challenging. Had to stop more than usual, including food and a nap, but better than napping while driving…
I have since spent the week mostly just relaxing and going for jogs. Well, until yesterday morning. On yesterdays run I stepped on a nail or something and now have a delightful puncture wound in the ball of my left foot.
My sister got home on Friday and, for the first time in eleven months, we are on the same land mass. To celebrate her return and her birthday which happened while she was abroad, we had a gathering with friends, family, and food (three of her favorite things) on Saturday. For it, I made a couple beautiful loaves of bread, which I was very happy with. Hooray for wild yeast culture!
(L) Whole wheat with roasted garlic and rosemary, (R) Country Blonde